Photo by Dave Lauridsen
|
Where the Spirit Moves You
By Lani Luciano, November & December 2005
When it’s time to step away from the distractions of everyday life and get back in touch with your spiritual core, you don’t have to go far to go deep
|
Sometimes old poets say it best. Consider these lines from the great English
Romantic William Wordsworth:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours...
Wordsworth wrote that 200 years ago, but he could have written it yesterday.
In an age of BlackBerrys and e-mails, iPods and Xboxes, we find ourselves
disconnected and adrift, in need of renewal and healing in a world that is
"too much with us."
But how does one step off the grid of modern life and reconnect with the
spiritual? The answer for millions of Americans is to go on a retreat. Retreats
are a means to look within ourselves in stillness and silence, to locate what
may be missing in our lives, but to also appreciate what has always been there.
They require that we set aside only the deadlines and obligations that besiege
our daily lives and find solace and sustenance in comforting quiet and simple
routines. Ultimately, the attraction is in the subtraction.
As many have discovered, you don't have to go far to go deep.
Spirituality websites can help anyone longing for some inner renewal find a
place to retreat. (See "Surfing for
Serenity".) Findthedivine.com lists more than 1,200
opportunities for retreats in the U.S. and Canada. According to Phil Stone, the
website's cofounder, 55,000 retreat seekers visit the site a month. In a
recent survey, Findthedivine asked what these people were looking for. More
than 50 percent said they were looking to enhance spirituality, while 23
percent were seeking personal growth, and 6 percent were hoping to improve
their appreciation of the outdoors or to express themselves artistically.
Retreats require that we set aside only the deadlines and
obligations that besiege our daily lives.
Anne Luther, director of Retreats
International, a nonprofit organization representing more than 350 largely
Catholic retreat centers, sees retreats as a starting point for a pursuit of
peace and contentment. "Every spiritual search has to start somewhere.
Even the smallest yearning for meaning is appealing to some kind of hunger in
people. Spiritual seeking is all about listening to that hunger," she
says.
If so, there are a lot of hungry travelers out there: according to Luther,
some 2.5 million North Americans went on a spiritual retreat last year through
her organization. And while most of the retreats RI represents have a Catholic
affiliation, many of the visitors are not Catholic but are simply looking to
jump-start their journey toward healing, growth, or enhancement of faith.
"There's a lot of disillusionment with religious institutions these
days, but interest in spirituality has never been greater," she says.
"We are attempting to be ecumenical to meet these needs."
Stone and Luther both emphasize that retreats come in all sizes and
missions. Visitors can follow a formal program or their own instincts; ponder
God, nature, or self; spend nights in sleeping bags or between organic-cotton
sheets. And prices can range from pay-what-you-choose to $500 or more a day.
The variety can be a bit bewildering to newcomers, but it is helpful to loosely
categorize retreats as faith-based, nonreligious, or meditation-oriented.
Deepening Your Faith
Religious retreats
Often, people find themselves confused or discouraged when they begin to
think about faith and the divine. A religious retreat can help those who may
feel spiritually lost and don't know where to turn. Martha Thomas, 55 and
mother of three, found herself in that state six years ago when she realized,
while sitting in church one Sunday, that she had no relationship with God and
no idea how to get one.
It wasn't a personal crisis that made Thomas begin to think about God.
She says she just "woke up" and thought, Where was my religious
experience? She looked at people in her Great Falls, Virginia, Methodist
congregation who "by virtue of how they lived, acted, and treated other
people seemed to have a relationship with God," and she asked them for
guidance.
"They told me they prayed and read the Bible every day and, when they
needed to talk to God, He was there." Thomas joined a centering prayer
group and found that sitting with others also trying to open themselves to God
gave her support and inspiration. Encouraged, she began going on group
retreats, including two weekends at Bon Secours Spiritual Center in
Marriottsville, Maryland, which she found through Findthedivine.com.
An ecumenical center, Bon Secours is run by the Catholic order the Sisters
of Bon Secours and is set amid 313 acres of rolling hills and hiking trails.
The rooms are simply furnished, containing one dresser, a twin or double bed, a
rocking chair, and a desk. The bathrooms are down the hall from the rooms and
are communal, though separated by gender. Meals are served cafeteria-style with
options for vegetarians, a full salad bar, and different entrées every
day. Across the hall from the main dining room are two smaller dining halls for
silent retreats.
A 55-foot labyrinth is one of Bon Secours's more striking features. The
focal point of a one-acre "sacred space," its stonework is laid in a
pattern based on the design of the famed Chartres labyrinth set on the floor of
the Chartres Cathedral around 1220. "Everybody does the labyrinth,"
says Thomas, describing the thoughtful slow walk visitors take. "It can
take as long as you make it; it is a very individual thing."
Not all the retreats at Bon Secours focus exclusively on religion and faith.
One that Thomas attended was based on yoga and another was a near-silent,
contemplative meditation retreat.
Though the retreats were structured, Thomas says that of her two experiences
at Bon Secours, she enjoyed her solitary nature rambles best. "I liked to
get out early in the morning and jog for an hour or so in the woods. I would
see lots of wildlife, like deer and foxes. It gave me time to be alone with my
thoughts," she says.
For Tim Siegel, 48, who frequently visits the Friends Wilderness Center (FWC) near Harpers
Ferry, West Virginia, being in nature engenders closeness with God. The FWC is
located in 1,400 lushly wooded acres and sponsors events such as silent
retreats, music festivals, and poetry readings. Siegel, the director of major
gifts for a Washington, D.C.-based conservation group, has been a board member
of the FWC for two years. A few times each year, he heads off alone to the
center, where he either camps in its meadow or sleeps in a rustic wooden yurt,
a domed shelter that sleeps four or five. He cooks on an open fire pit, hikes
miles of the seldom-used trails, watches wildlife, and marvels at the night
sky. "The quiet and solitude help me think," he says. "I'm a
practicing Quaker, and it fits very well with our concept of dwelling in
silence."
The FWC also offers a tree house, which has a roof and no walls and sleeps
up to 15, and a cabin with two bedrooms. When Siegel brings his teenage
daughter or a friend or two with him, they tend to prefer the cabin, with meals
prepared by the preserve's resident manager.
Religious leaders too seek and enjoy the benefits of solitude that come from
a retreat, even one hosted by another faith. Five or six times a year, Nancy
Copeland-Payton, 55, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Sandpoint,
Idaho, drives 200 miles to the Monastery
of St. Gertrude, a community of 60 Catholic nuns in Cottonwood, Idaho.
"There's always the smell of fresh-baked bread, and the sisters pray
together three times a day. It's just such a nourishing atmosphere, and I
feel a deeper sense of being grounded in God's presence," she
says.
St. Gertrude's hosted more than 1,000 retreat participants last year. It
offers peace and quiet, spiritual direction, an extensive library, and a museum
of the history of northern Idaho. Most retreatgoers stay in the new $3.4
million Spirit Center, which has 22 double-occupancy rooms with individual
bathrooms and either two twin beds or a full bed for couples. Most rooms have
views of the surrounding prairie, which is covered with rivers, lakes, and
ponderosa pine, fir, and spruce. Accommodations are also offered at the
Farmhouse, a large single-family home that sleeps 14 and is perfect for group
retreats, and the Solitude House, which serves as the chaplain's residence
but has four bedrooms with full beds, a kitchenette, and a living room area for
guests.
When she is not participating in a formal retreat at St. Gertrude's,
Copeland-Payton enjoys filling her time with walking the monastery's
grounds, praying, eating, and talking with the devout sisters. Mostly, the
minister loves deepening her own spiritual understanding through the ideas and
perspectives of a different tradition. "Retreats help me discover more of
God's possibilities," she says.
Finding the Real You
Nonreligious retreats
For those who are not necessarily looking to strengthen their relationship
with God but to strengthen themselves, secular retreats provide comfort and
support. They are likely to target specific challenges like forgiveness,
addictions, or the courage to face life-threatening illness or otherwise trying
times. Some promote personal growth in general.
At The Ashram, in the Santa Monica
mountains near Los Angeles, guests undergo a weeklong intensive physical
schedule and limited diet to help them tap their innate power to overcome life
obstacles. The days have a spartan simplicity: an hour of yoga in the morning;
a five-hour hike; classes in weight training, Pilates, water aerobics, or
dance; more yoga; then bed. The meals are organic and vegetarian (a typical
day's fare: fruit salad, eggs, and raw yogurt for breakfast; salad, hummus,
vegetarian sushi, or organic tacos for lunch; and raw-food soup, spinach salad,
or coconut curry for dinner). The austere conditions are described as
"simple spirituality and loving punishment" by the organizers.
The Ashram has been dubbed "boot camp to the stars," and its
guests have included Oprah Winfrey, Dan Aykroyd, Shirley MacLaine, and Cindy
Crawford. It attracts people who are willing to spend a lot of money ($3,800 a
week) and energy to develop inner strength. Only 12 guests a week are accepted,
and they stay in either one of the three private rooms or four shared rooms,
each with two queensize beds. None of the rooms have televisions, phones, or
private bathrooms.
Not all the guests at The Ashram are celebrities, and for some, it offers an
ascetic environment to sort out the competing demands in their busy lives.
Chris Coates's import business-she distributes Australian hardwood flooring
in Novato, California—was just beginning to take off in 2001 when the
events of 9/11 made her take stock of her lifestyle. "I had wanted to run
my own business so I'd have more time for myself and my family. Instead, I
had less." A firm believer in the mind-body connection, Coates, 48,
decided that a week combining physical exertion with inner reflection at The
Ashram would help her find the right balance between her personal and
professional lives.
The program's short rations were not a problem for Coates. "Getting
skinnier is good," she says. And she found that the 10- to 14-mile daily
hikes provided a form of meditation. "There's nothing to fill your
head but the sound of rustling leaves, chirping birds, and your own hard
breathing as you climb into beautiful scenery." At the end of each day,
says Coates, "I reveled in knowing I had the physical and emotional
strength to complete that day's task." Since her first visit in 2001,
Coates has been back five more times, and she credits the stays with helping
her manage her growing business while still carving out private time for
herself as well as family time with her five nephews and nieces. "When
problems come up, I handle them like I handle those hikes—one step at a
time."
Last year Richard Wilson, 59, who lives near Atlanta, decided it was time to
figure out why his life wasn't working and extricate himself from toxic
patterns of behavior. Among other things, he was mired in debt and aware that
his job as a food-service manager would be ending soon. He decided to visit The Crossings, a retreat center and
meeting place in the Texas highlands outside Austin. Set on a 200-acre campus,
The Crossings features a hot tub, sauna, steam rooms, and à la carte spa
services, as well as walking trails and a chapel-like building called The
Sanctuary adorned with symbols of all the world religions.
At The Crossings, Wilson attended a three-day workshop on "The Shadow
Process" held by bestselling author and integrative coach Debbie Ford. The
Shadow Process is designed to help participants let go of corrosive emotions
and make peace with their pasts, and Wilson spent his weekend participating in
group exercises designed to build trust in himself and others. For example,
says Wilson, "we told one another the worst things about ourselves and the
best things, so we could get used to accepting the feelings that went with each
type of disclosure."
The point, he says, was to recognize his own emotions fully enough to
mentally steer them in a more positive direction. "How you feel is all
about how you think," says Wilson, who reports the retreat helped him to
acknowledge the self-defeating thoughts and habits that brought him to his
present circumstances.
Wilson accepts that the task of transforming his life will occupy him for
years to come. "I know exactly who's responsible for the mess I'm
in and who has to clean it up, but it's been hard to summon the imagination
to make the necessary changes," he says. "I'm hoping that
I'll turn out to be a late bloomer."
In Search of Mindfulness
Meditation-based retreats
An ancient Eastern practice to calm and focus the mind, meditation exerts a
strong appeal to overstressed Western lives and is incorporated into nearly
every retreat, religious or otherwise. There are, however, retreats devoted
specifically to meditation, like those offered by the Insight Meditation Society (IMS) in rural Barre,
Massachusetts, where for the last two years New Yorker John Corwin, 58, has
spent a summer week. "Managing our easily distracted minds is far more
difficult than it sounds," says Corwin, describing the meditation process
and its difficulty. "At first I could barely meditate for five minutes.
Now I can do as much as 30 minutes at a time."
So why do it? Calming and focusing the mind allows him to more fully
experience the individual moments in his life, Corwin believes, "rather
than thinking about a time when things were or will be different than they are
now." As a result of his practice, he says, he's more satisfied with
the present, less consumed with the future or past.
It doesn't hurt that the IMS is situated in a beautiful 160-acre wooded
compound. Program participants stay in appropriately modest quarters, just two
dormitories attached to a main building and meditation center. The bedrooms are
small, and bathrooms are shared. The food is ovo-lacto vegetarian (eggs and
dairy allowed) and simple. Breakfast and lunch are the main meals, with a small
snack for dinner. Retreat participants help prepare all the food as a form of
community work.
Retreats at IMS are conducted in near-total silence, with the only
interruptions being 45 minutes of daily instruction in a range of meditation
techniques or optional help sessions in which you can seek counseling about
problems that arise during meditations. During the day everyone has a communal
task, such as salad preparation for the large midday meal, which is also
performed in silence.
Otherwise, the time at the IMS is filled with structured 45-minute
meditations, both sitting and a walking variation in which participants walk in
a straight line, focusing on the physical sensation of their footsteps.
Whatever the meditation, the goal is always to train the mind to return to the
focal point when it wanders.
Corwin credits the self-mastery gained during meditation with helping him to
have the focus and confidence to start his own business and to lose the fear of
not having a steady income. Formerly a high-pressure lawyer, he's now a
self-employed consultant to nonprofit organizations. "Fear is mainly a
physical sensation. It's not the same thing as danger. Sometimes it is just
fear that stops you, not danger. Overcoming that feeling can help you trust
yourself enough to move toward your goals," he says. "I'm happier
now than I ever expected to be."
Lani Luciano has written for Barron's, Worth, Self,
and many other publications. Additional reporting by Claire E.
Fisher.
|